


Pennies from Heaven

by thecarlysutra



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Character(s) of Color, Chromatic Yuletide, F/F, Female Character of Color, Fluff, Happy Ending, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, Misses Clause Challenge, POV Character of Color, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28094664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: Renee Montoya made a career out of hard decisions, canny insights, and guts. Still, this may be the riskiest maneuver she's ever attempted.A million thanks to Carla for the beta.
Relationships: Dinah Lance/Renee Montoya, Helena Bertinelli & Renee Montoya, Renee Montoya & Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Pennies from Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stratisphyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stratisphyre/gifts).



  
Renee Montoya made a career out of hard decisions, canny insights, and guts. Still, this may be the riskiest maneuver she's ever attempted. 

"I need to know I can trust you with this," she says. 

Harley beams. 

"Of _course_ you can!" she chirps. "I am absolutely, 100% the best person for this job." 

The problem, Renee thinks, is that Harley is probably right. 

***

Dinah is fresh from the shower. She is wearing a light purple satin robe that ends just below her panty line and shows the heavenly shape of her. Renee watches her from the bed, the still and quiet of the evening falling all around her like snow. 

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Dinah asks. Ostensibly, she is oiling her hair, but Renee can feel Dinah's hawk eyes on her. She doesn't squirm from a sharp gaze, though, not from a mafioso and not from the DA and certainly not from her girlfriend. 

"I don't know what you mean," Renee says. 

Dinah arches an eyebrow. 

"You don't," she says, not a question, and walks toward the bed. "You've barely said a word all night." 

Renee shrugs. The corner of Dinah's mouth quirks up, and she slides onto the bed, her legs tangled with Renee's, her hands still slick with oil and running up Renee's bare legs. 

"Do I have to put the screws to you?" she purrs. "Tie you up and extract your secrets, one by one?" 

"Torture is an extremely unreliable method of procuring the truth," Renee says, ignoring the temptation to give in to this little game. 

"Not the way I do it," Dinah says lightly, and she stands up on her knees and slips out of her robe, and any resolve Renee might have had dissolves. 

***

Helena goes shopping with her. 

"I think it's good you're trusting Harley with this," she says, aimlessly picking up a necklace, eyeing it, and setting it back down on the jewelry counter. 

Renee's brow goes up. "You do?" 

"Yes," Helena says. "We have a saying in Sicily: 'Make friends of your enemies, or kill them.' That's your directive, and also your fallback." 

Renee blinks. Half the time, she doesn't know whether Helena's words are genuine or not, but this time, she sounds like she might mean it. 

"Uh, thanks," Renee says. "I'll keep that in mind." 

***

Renee wakes up to golden sunshine streaming in through the window, and Dinah pressing kisses to her face. When she sees Renee's eyes on her, she smiles, brilliant as the dawn. 

"I thought you were going to sleep forever!" 

Renee slides her hands down Dinah's shoulders, gently holding her biceps. Dinah cocks her head, studies Renee intently. Renee can see Dinah's freckles and the little scrunch of her nose and the warm, tiger's eye color of her eyes, and every detail fills her up with warmth. She _could_ stay here forever, snuggled up in bed with Dinah, just the two of them in the quiet and the warmth of the morning sun. 

"Penny for your thoughts," Dinah says. 

"I was just thinking… Happy birthday." 

Dinah rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "That was way too serious a face to be thinking happy birthday, but thank you." 

She kisses her, full on the mouth this time. Renee kisses back, and she holds on. 

***

Renee listens to Dinah moving around the kitchen, humming in time with the coffee maker. Her voice is rich, soulful, and so much like her mother's. The pain of losing her mother, and losing her like that, runs through Dinah like a vein of ore embedded in her bedrock. Renee wishes she could take that away. She wants to excise every bad thing that's ever happened to Dinah, like a surgeon removing shrapnel. But then, without these pieces of her past, would Dinah be something different? Renee isn't sure she could stand that, Dinah being anything other than what she is—perfect. She's perfect. 

"You're being quiet again," Dinah says. 

"Huh? Oh. I just—just be here at seven thirty tonight, okay?" 

"Yes, dear," Dinah says. "I remember. And you're still not telling me where we're going?" 

"It's a surprise." 

"You hate surprises." 

"But I love _you_." 

"I love you, too," Dinah says. "But don't think I don't know you're up to something." 

Renee holds her hands up shoulder height, fingers spread. "Innocent until proven guilty." 

"I'll get my lawyer," Dinah says. 

***

Renee gets home before Dinah, and she spends entirely too much time deciding on an outfit. When she hears Dinah's keys in the door, she's back in the first outfit she considered, a black blouse with black trousers and black flats. Why mess with a classic? 

Dinah lounges against the doorframe, studying her in a decidedly leonine way. "Why, Renee Montoya, where are you going all dolled up like that?" 

Renee rolls her eyes. "I'll put on some lipstick, okay?" 

"You look beautiful, as always," Dinah says, swanning into the room and capturing a kiss. "Is that the dress code? 'Detective bullpen?'" 

"The dress code is 'sixty dollar steak.'" 

"Oh, baby, I love it when you talk dirty." 

Renee sits on the bed and watches Dinah go through the closet until she finds a suitable dress. She watches Dinah strip off her day clothes, every honey brown inch of her coming into view, and slip into a copper-colored bandage dress with a plunging neckline rimmed with studs and feathers. She looks like a goddess in the old sense, and Renee has knelt at that altar and left her offerings, the most precious things. Worshiping her for the rest of her life would be heaven. 

Dinah looks over at her and smiles. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" 

"Oh, these _particular_ thoughts are worth a lot more than your pocket change." 

Dinah laughs. "Yes, dear. Shall we go?" 

***

Renee isn't exactly sure what they're walking into, but—and this is the scary part—she trusts Harley enough to not make a disaster of it, so she just tells Dinah, "It's a surprise" until they walk through the doors. 

They're both surprised enough that they stop right there in the doorway and just take in the scene before them. Up until a few days ago, this was a foreclosed on strip club. Tonight, it's a Gatsby party. There are still neon lights everywhere, but the stages and poles are gone, replaced by a large dance floor surrounded by cozy, close booths. At either end of the room, there are bars tended by men dressed 1920s sharp. There are champagne fountains and cigarette girls, and dozens of guests dressed to the nines, drinking and talking and dancing to a throbbing R&B beat coming through the speakers the strip club left. 

A moment after Renee and Dinah enter, the R&B cuts off abruptly, and a familiar voice comes through the speakers: 

"Ladies and gentleman," Harley says, "your guest of honor, birthday girl Dinah Lance!" 

The guests clap and yell and whistle, and Dinah laughs. 

"I can't believe you did this," she says, as she's handed a glass of champagne as the R&B throbs back to life. 

"I, uh, I didn't really do this," Renee says after the crowd is done mobbing Dinah, handing her drinks and gifts and wishing her a happy birthday. They're tucked away in a booth, a quiet island in the middle of the chaos. 

"What do you mean?" Dinah asks. "This place just popped up on my birthday by complete coincidence?" 

"No, of course not. It's just … I really wanted tonight to be special, but I don't know how to plan a party or anything like that, so I … outsourced it." 

"To whom?" 

"Harley." 

"You just handed her some cash and said, 'Make a party in here'?" 

"Actually, I gave her my credit card," Renee says, and Dinah chokes on her drink. "I think she did a good job, though, right? You like it?" 

"I love it," Dinah says, and kisses her. "Thank you." 

"Actually, there's one more thing," Renee says. 

"Yes?" 

"Look, I'm not good at this stuff, but … you make me want to try, you know? So I'm … Dinah, every day I wake up next to you is the best day of my life. I never want to stop doing it—being with you, loving you. So could you—would you, please, be my wife?" 

She sets the ring box on the table between them, popping open the lid to reveal the ring Helena helped her pick out, a simple, white gold band with a princess cut diamond—canary yellow. 

Dinah's lips are parted, and for a moment, she's frozen like that. Then she smiles, meets Renee's eyes. "You want me forever, huh?" 

"More than anything." 

"I'll give you forever," she says, and holds out her left hand so Renee can slip the engagement ring onto her finger. 

It fits perfectly.  



End file.
